


House of Memories

by Sashataakheru



Series: Lord Greg and His Boys AU [10]
Category: British Comedy RPF, Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: Attempts at Reconciliation, Con Artists, Confessions, Escape, Friendship, Gambling, Grifting, Guilt, Healing, Letters, Light D/s, M/M, Memories, Nostalgia, Regrets, Running Away, Service Kink, Trust Issues, accidental meet-ups, bad break-ups, card tricks, hanging out together, lying, reconnecting with old lovers, this one is rly hard to tag ngl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 06:57:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19079854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashataakheru/pseuds/Sashataakheru
Summary: Ed would like it known that James, it's fair to say, is an unreliable narrator. So this is Ed's side of the story of the night he ran into James again after six years apart.Sequel toAshes to Ashes.





	House of Memories

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ashes To Ashes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18339209) by [Sashataakheru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashataakheru/pseuds/Sashataakheru). 



> Just so you know, I have listened to ‘House of Memories’ by Panic! At The Disco 460+ times in the past week in a bid to finish this fic. I may have gone a little mad. D: At least I can listen to something else now. :D?

"Would you like another go, sir? Just find the five of diamonds, and you'll win all your money back," Ed said.  
  
The young man standing before him was, let's be honest, drunk off his tits, which is not how Ed usually picked his marks, but he was bored, and there were no parties to go to, so he'd been scamming idiots all night. Whoever walked past and looked like they'd be dumb enough to give him all their money and not hate him for it in the morning. And because this street was near a busy pub and close to a train station, there were plenty of drunk idiots to take advantage of.  
  
"You sure there's a five of diamonds in there, bro? I swear, I ain't see one," he said.  
  
Ed flashed a reassuring smile as he revealed the five of diamonds, just to reassure him it was still there. "Touch it. It's real. No tricks, I promise."  
  
The man glared and touched the card, and seemed annoyed that it was indeed real. But he was too unfocused to follow what Ed did with the card after that as he handed over another fiver. "Yeah, alright, one more go."  
  
Ed shuffled the cards and kept eye contact at all times to stop him seeing the sleight of hand he was doing in the shadows. "One more go, sir, good choice! There's a lot at stake now, so here's hoping you get lucky tonight."  
  
The man grinned. "I already got lucky tonight, this is just a bonus."  
  
"Well, you have had a big night, well done, sir," Ed said. He fanned the cards. "There you go, just find the five of diamonds and all the money's yours. Go on, pick three cards. If it's in there, it's yours."  
  
The man's brow furrowed as he ran his fingers over the cards before he carefully pulled three out: the ace of clubs, the two of diamonds, and the seven of spades. "Ahhh, balls, you sure it's in there somewhere? I swear, I ain't pulled it at all."  
  
"Oh, it's in there, alright, see?" Ed said, shuffling the cards too fast for the man to see him slip the five of diamonds back in before he revealed it to him. "Maybe next time, yeah? Here, take twenty quid for being a good sport, yeah?"  
  
"Hey, twenty quid, thanks, mate, you're alright, you are. Maybe I'll come play again," the man said, pocketing the money with glee, looking like he had actually won, when really, he'd lost very, very badly. If Ed was lucky, he wouldn't realise how much he'd lost until very late tomorrow. But that wasn't his problem if he was dumb enough to carry that much cash and then just not know when to quit.  
  
"Maybe, you never know when you'll run into me. Goodnight, sir," Ed said.  
  
"Goodnight, you dashing prince!" the man said as he waved him goodbye and continued ambling down the street.  
  
Ed pocketed the cards, and counted the cash he'd taken tonight. Nearly a thousand quid. It was a good night for stupid drunk idiots. And he wasn't even pulling out his big guns. This was just stupid street magic. Silly card tricks that worked to separate the gullible from their money. He hadn't done this kind of thing for a very long time. Hadn't needed to, if he was honest. But he'd had to lie low for a while, and go back to his roots, as it were, and perhaps he felt a little bad taking money from people who might actually miss the money. But he couldn't show his face in high society anymore, so this was as good as it was going to get.  
  
He looked up then, looking for his next mark. There, he saw a thin, lonely figure walking down the street towards him. Something about him looked familiar, but he'd known a lot of guys like that, so that probably meant nothing. He had his hands deep in his pockets, head gazing down at the ground, and he saw he was listening to music as he passed under a street light.  
  
"Well, looks like I'd better go get his attention. He looks like he'd give up a lot, gullible idiot," Ed said.  
  
As he crossed a road and headed down to meet him, he suddenly realised who it was, and he stopped. That was James. He hadn't seen James in six years. He'd thought James had cut him out of his life and moved on, which Ed wouldn't have blamed him for at all, given what he did to him.  
  
"Fuck. I thought he looked familiar. I wonder if he'll want to see me again. I did kinda abandon him," Ed said. "Only one way to find out, I guess."  
  
Perhaps purposefully running into someone wasn't the best tactic, given how skinny and fragile James was, but Ed wasn't sure he would hear him calling to him, and he didn't want to risk James running away either. James was staring at the ground the whole time as well, so it was easy to just drift past his attention before he collided with him. James had not seen it coming and had gone flying backwards onto the pavement. It was as he looked up at him, that's when Ed knew it was really him, and he wasn't sure what to say because James just looked so scared, like he was about to panic.  
  
"Hey there, baby boy, it's alright, don't panic, it's me, Ed. I always said I'd come back for you, didn't I? How are you?" Ed said, offering a hand to help him up.  
  
James ignored his offer and scrambled to his feet, still looking like a frightened little bird. "I don't - please, I just-"    
  
"Don't, look, just give me a moment to explain. I always wanted to come back for you, and I didn't, and I'm so sorry for that, baby boy, I'm so sorry. I should have come back for you instead of leaving you on your own like that. I shouldn't have left you, I'm so sorry, I should have taken you with me," Ed said.  
  
James, it seemed, was not ready to hear any of this. He put his arm out, and Ed got the hint to back off.  
  
"No, look, I just - don't - Ed, please, I can't-"  
  
And then James had turned and fled, and Ed didn't blame him at all for running. Clearly, James had taken their breakup very badly, which Ed felt he should have known, but he was just trying to protect him. Hadn't James understood that? He saved him from going to jail. Surely, that was a good thing?  
  
Well, maybe it wasn't, if James was so damaged, he didn't want to even see Ed again.  
  


* * *

 

Eight years ago...  
Ed wasn't sure what made him notice him. There were plenty of lonely solo drinkers in this bar tonight, but something about this boy caught his attention. He looked far too young to be staring into his glass with such melancholy. How old was he, maybe mid-20s at most? Perhaps early twenties. He did have a very young face. Pretty dirty blond hair too, lovely blond hair. Seemed very skinny, undernourished, perhaps one of those anxious depressed little things. The kind of delicate fragile boy who often ended up getting beaten around too much until they broke.  
  
Ed watched him from the bar. He'd been here about an hour now, maybe two, and he'd barely finished that whisky he was nursing. He just stared at the table, seemed lost in his own mind, when he wasn't scowling at the crowd instead. Ed wondered why he would come to a bar to drink when he clearly wanted to be alone, but perhaps he'd been stood up. That would make sense.  
  
He leaned over to grab the barman's attention. "Hey, that kid over there, what's he drinking?"  
  
"Single malt, why?" the barman said.  
  
"I'll have two," Ed said, offering the money. "He been here long? One of your regulars?"  
  
"He might be if he keeps turning up. Every other evening, he's in here, just a single whisky, sometimes two, and he's here for, like, four hours, always till closing. I don't know what he's doing here, but maybe he just wants to get out of the house. I can't imagine why he'd be here otherwise. He never talks to anyone," the barman said. He handed Ed the drinks and his change. "You really know how to pick 'em, don't you? Good luck with him, he's not very friendly."  
  
"Oh, we'll see about that. Thanks, mate," Ed said.  
  
"Look, there's a couple nice birds over by the billiards if you want a proper hook-up tonight if he doesn't work out," the barman said.  
  
Ed smiled. "Thanks, man, you're a champ."  
  
"Always looking out for my best customer, that's all," the barman said.  
  
Ed gave him a nod, and took the drinks over to where the boy was sitting. The boy didn't seem to notice him as he put the drinks down and sat down opposite him, sitting on the chair backwards just because he could.  
  
"Hey there, I'm Ed, I thought you needed a drinking buddy," Ed said.  
  
The boy scowled at him. "I really don't. Go away, I want to be left alone."  
  
Ed smiled, refusing to leave. "Then why are you drinking in a pub? Seems to be you'd be better off drinking at home."  
  
The boy looked like he was almost going to say something, but crossed his arms and sat back, as if suddenly deciding that talking to him was the last thing he wanted to do.  
  
"I'm not leaving until you talk to me. You look like you could use a friend, that's all," Ed said.  
  
The boy didn't say anything. He didn't touch the drink Ed had brought him, he just scowled and stared at him, as if seeing how long it would take for Ed to leave him alone.  
  
"Barman says you're new in town. You been here long? What do you do? Play in bands? You look like you play in bands."  
  
The boy gave a disdainful sniff and looked away out the window. Ed felt he was right, but clearly he might be pushing his luck with this one. He'd just have to come back and keep trying. He sat back and drank his whisky. It wasn't necessarily his thing, but it was alcohol and he wasn't going to waste his money.  
  
After a while, he got his cards out. Shuffled them. Laid the deck down in front of him. "Go on, pick three cards for me. I've got a trick to show you."  
  
The boy sighed, but did pull three cards out: the Queen of spades, the Queen of hearts, and the ace of clubs.  
  
"Now, I'm going to look away, and I want you to pick a card and turn that one over. Then, I want you to turn the other two over and switch their places, alright?" Ed said.  
  
The boy looked sceptical, but Ed looked away, and he heard him turn the cards over. He'd done this trick so many times, he didn't even need to think about it anymore. It was the first trick he'd ever learned how to do, and it always managed to win a crowd. "You done yet?"  
  
"Hmmf. Yes," the boy said.  
  
Ed turned back around and waved his hands over the cards like a magician, as if he was magically trying to guess his card. "Let's see if I can find your card, shall we?"  
  
The boy still looked unimpressed, but Ed persisted. He could see there was a little spark of curiosity in his eyes. Some small childlike part of him that still found card tricks magical. Everyone had that little spark to some degree, that's why this silly trick still worked. He turned over the first card, and that was all he needed to know. "That's your card."  
  
The boy's eyes widened. "No. There must be some trick. You heard the cards. You looked. I swear you looked. That must be it."  
  
Ed gathered the cards up. "Of course, it's a trick. I was just trying to cheer you up. Everyone likes card tricks, right? But you clearly aren't in the mood to appreciate my magical gifts, so I guess I'll leave you to drink on your own. Good luck finding whatever it is you're looking for."  
  
Ed stood, finished his drink, and left the boy alone. He had two girls to charm into his bed now, and he was looking forward to it.  
  


* * *

  
Ed found himself feeling pensive. He had thought about James every day for six years, but he'd never prepared himself for seeing him again. He'd written so many letters, thought about so many different ways of getting in touch with him, but he always seemed to have moved on by the time Ed got his contact information. He had got to the point of thinking that perhaps James was right to cut him out. He had left him, after all. Ed had been too caught up in his own shit to recognise how badly James would take it if he had to leave him.  
  
He'd spent years agonising over that decision, once the initial panic had settled and he felt safe to come out of hiding. He couldn't go back to that world, of course. He was known there now, and banned from it. But it wasn't a total loss. He still had a lot of money squirrelled away in foreign accounts. He didn't really need it, because making money came very easily to him. That world might be off limits, but there were still millions of other people he could scam. He had enough charm and charisma to get what he needed every single time.  
  
But James wasn't like that. He wasn't so confident. They worked well as a team because James was good at following Ed's lead, but on his own, he did wonder if James would actually be alright. He'd taught him a lot, hopefully enough for him to survive, but even Mark had lost track of him after a while, so Ed was left not knowing where he was or whether he was alright.  
  
Was he alright? He wasn't sure. Clearly there was a lot James had not bothered dealing with if he ran away from him like that. He shouldn't have left him. He should have taken him with him. They'd have been fine, right? It's not like the cops ever found anything, nor anyone who was willing to talk. It hadn't been the cops. It had been everyone else. His cover had been blown, and they knew who he was now, and he'd been banished again. Somehow, this second time round felt a lot more awful than the first one had been. But he didn't care. He had their money. He'd be alright. Fuck them and their stupid titles and their old money and their fucking crumbling mansions. Why would Ed waste his fortune on maintaining a house that would just eat all his money when he didn't have to? Entitled wankers. He didn't need a title to get by. He didn't need any of them. If his father wanted to give his stepson the title instead, so be it. Let the little toerag deal with the crumbling mansion instead. Ed did not want it. And he knew very well how crumbling it was, because he'd fucking grown up in it.  
  
Ed was feeling annoyed now. Or perhaps sad. He didn't want to chase after James. He was too skittish for that to be of any use right now. He'd have to just work out where he was living now, and see if he'd be willing to meet up with him. He didn't know if James had ever found the message he'd left for him either. Whether he'd found it and decided not to write to him, or if he hadn't found it at all. He still had that email account on his phone, well, it was now three phones later, but it was still there, and he checked it every day, hoping that one day, James would write to him.  
  
Instead, he called a cab and headed home. The problem of tracking down James could wait for tomorrow.  
  


* * *

  
Eight years ago...  
Ed had been busy, so he hadn't been back to the pub for a couple of weeks, but he spotted his boy as soon as he arrived, sitting in the same place, nursing a glass of whisky. He went to the bar to get one for himself then sat down in the other chair. He seemed ... sadder this time, as if he was on the verge of tears, but was furiously stopping himself from doing so in public.  
  
"You alright?" Ed said. "Do you want to go somewhere quieter? You don't look like you want this crowd tonight."  
  
The boy finished his drink and looked annoyed. "Oh, not you again. I thought I'd got rid of you."  
  
Ed just smiled at him. "Come on, you look miserable, and this place is not going to cheer you up. Come on, I'll take you to a proper whisky bar, you'll drown your sorrows better there. My shout, I promise."  
  
Ed noticed he looked so much smaller, all huddled into himself as he gazed out the window. He didn't push him, just let him sort out his head and see if he would take him up on his offer.  
  
"Yeah, yeah alright. Get me out of here before I cry," the boy said a moment later. "I'm James."  
  
"It's lovely to meet you, James. Come on, get your coat, we'll have to get a cab there, but it'll be worth it, I promise," Ed said.  
  
James did, kind of awkwardly, grabbing his coat, shifting around, got to his feet, looked around like he wasn't sure what to do, before Ed grabbed his arm, and led him outside. Ed was sure he felt James relax as soon as they were outside in the silence.  
  
"I don't know why you keep going there. It's clearly not your scene," Ed said.  
  
James shrugged, looking like a small child in his oversized coat, staring at his feet. "Just - I dunno. I like it?"  
  
Ed glanced at him as he got his phone out. "You don't like it, I can tell. You couldn't wait to get out of there. I'm sure you've been in that pub every other day, just waiting for someone to make friends with you and take you somewhere else. Tell me I'm wrong, go on."  
  
Ed noticed James slump even further into his coat. "Alright, fine. I hate it there. But I didn't know where else to go and it was just down the road from my place. That's why I go there."  
  
"Trust me, there are far better places to drink than there," Ed said. "Have you ever tried £500 whisky?"  
  
James shook his head. "I can't afford good whisky, Ed, what kind of man do you take me for? I'm not rich. I wouldn't be living in this shithole if I was rich."  
  
Ed smiled. "Then I think I'm about to blow your tiny mind, James."  
  
"Ha, yeah, I bet." James said, hesitantly, shoving his hands into his pockets.  
  
They took a cab downtown, to a much posher part of London. Ed led him down a tiny alleyway to a small whisky bar that looked like it could barely seat ten people, and there were already ten people in it. Ed loved this place. It was small and pokey, but the whisky was exquisite and the clientele were much more his style. There was a bouncer, for a start, who Ed knew very well.  
  
"Back again, Ed?" the bouncer said.  
  
"You'll never keep me away from this place, Chris. I'm assuming my table's still free?" Ed said.  
  
Chris stood aside and let them through. "Of course, I always keep it free for you. Have a good night."  
  
"Will do," Ed said. "Come on, James, this way."  
  
Ed took his hand and pulled him to a table right at the back, semi-concealed from view. James seemed to like this, and nestled into the booth in the corner, as if wishing he was invisible. Ed sat opposite him, and when a waiter came by, Ed ordered them two shots of whisky, the really good stuff, and gave him quite a tip to thank him, and settled down.  
  
"So, do you like it? It's much quieter, isn't it? We can talk here without raising our voices. Every Friday they do jazz in here, too. It's really nice," Ed said.  
  
James still looked a bit skittish, but the quiet seemed to relax him, and by the time their drinks arrived, James seemed calmer. Ed sat back, and watched him.  
  
"So, give that a taste and tell me it isn't the best whisky you've ever tasted, yeah?" Ed said.  
  
James took a sip, and his face seemed to approve. "Yeah, it is very nice. I-I'm not ... good at telling them apart. But I like this one."  
  
"Good, good. Any reason you go for whisky over anything else? Just like it?" Ed said.  
  
James shrugged. "It's easier to get drunk on a couple of drinks than buy, like, seven beers, and I can't afford seven beers."  
  
"What do you do, then? What's your job?" Ed said.  
  
James looked away, seemed evasive, then mumbled a reply. "I-I was in a band."  
  
"Was? What happened? Did they break up?" Ed said.  
  
"Yeah, with me. Again. Fuck. I'm so useless. Everyone leaves me," James said.  
  
"You got somewhere to stay? You need a job? I could use someone to housesit for me. I'm away a lot, but I can't leave my flat unattended. Besides, I like you. It'd be nice to have someone around that I liked. I could take you here every week, if you want. How does that sound?" Ed said.  
  
"So I get to be lonely in your flat instead of in mine? Sure, sounds lovely," James said, not sounding as enthusiastic as Ed wanted.  
  
"I mean, it was just an offer. What else are you going to do for money?" Ed said.  
  
James shrugged. Ed thought it was the most adorably child-like shrug he'd ever seen. And the more he sat there staring at him, the more he wanted to kiss him. But he knew James might not be queer, might not want him to kiss him, but he'd test the waters and find out. If he wasn't, he hoped they might at least be friends. He looked like he needed a friend.  
  
"Dunno, maybe, there's a band audition next week, might go to that, I dunno, I guess," James said.  
  
"Do you want to play in shitty go nowhere bands for the rest of your life, or do you want to drink posh whisky every week? Because if you come and work for me, you can buy all the posh whisky you could ever want," Ed said.  
  
James just looked at him then, as if he'd just said the stupidest thing, but there was something in his eyes that was interested. That was hungry for it. To get out of this shithole and into something better.  
  
"What's the catch? There's always a catch when some stranger offers you a job out of nowhere. There's always a catch. What is it? I have to be your sex slave? Is that it?" James said.  
  
Ed had to laugh at that because he hadn't even planned to broach that topic at all until he got James home with him, assuming he could get him home, but to think that was on James' mind already was an interesting thing to play with.  
  
"It's not, but do you want it to be? Would you like to be my sex slave? To just wait for me to want you, so I can ravish you and fuck you and use you however I like? Is that what you want?" Ed said, curious to see how he would react.  
  
James clearly wasn't expecting him to say that, because he looked like Ed had called his bluff and he wasn't happy about it. Ed reached over and took his hand gently, testing the waters. James didn't pull away, which surprised him.  
  
"Would you do anything I told you to do? Would you just obey me without question?" Ed said. He didn't quite know why he was asking this, he didn't usually go for really submissive boys, but there was just something about James that was so trusting. He was gullible, sure, but it was more than that. Ed thought James was looking for someone to tell him what to do.  
  
James caught his eyes then, looking confused, puzzled, curious. "What do you mean? What kind of things? Is ... is it sexual?"  
  
Ed smiled. "It can be, but it doesn't have to be. Maybe you could come and live with me and be my servant. I tell you what to do, you do it, and we're both happy, yeah? And if you're good, I'll take you to fancy parties and let you do whatever you like, if you do one thing for me and cause a distraction at precisely the time I tell you to. Do you think you can do that?"  
  
"Oh, sure, I guess I could. What-what do you need a distraction for? What are you doing at these parties?" James asked, and he sounded a little bit tentative.  
  
"They're posh parties, James. Really posh ones. I just like to gate-crash them. Don't you want to go and cause some mayhem? Sure, we'll get thrown out, but that's the point. And if you do your job well, there might be a great reward in it for you," Ed said.  
  
"Oh? What kind of reward? Why would you reward me for that? It sounds like too much trouble. They could call the cops on us if they wanted to. I-I don't do that. I'm not a criminal," James said, making a point.  
  
"I'm not asking you to be a criminal. Just cause a distraction. Tell some jokes, start busking, run into a waiter and knock a plate of glasses over. That kind of thing. Be the centre of attention. Does that sound like something you can do?" Ed said.  
  
James seemed to think about this for a long time. Ed sat there, drinking his whisky, trying not to intimidate him or pressure him, but to give him the space to consider his offer. Of course, if James said no, Ed would leave it there and let him go. He wasn't a dick. But he hoped he'd say yes. He was getting a little tired of playing parties on his own. It always made it much harder to leave, and he ended up playing clean and losing a not insignificant amount of money, just to prove he wasn't cheating. Those losses had hurt badly, but it built sympathy and deflected from what he was really trying to do.  
  
"Maybe. I might be able to do that," James said eventually. "Why? What are you doing to need a distraction anyway? That sounds like you're doing something you shouldn't be doing."  
  
Ed sat back, and thought about how to explain what it was he did without telling him the truth. He never told his boys the truth. Plausible deniability, that's what that was about. James had to stay as innocent as possible.  
  
"I'm a gambler, James. I gamble. I like to sneak my way into their private poker parties, and clean them out as much as I can. Why? Because it's fun, more fun than casinos, anyway. Gate-crash, charm my way in, win enough to feel like it's been worth it, then get out before I lose it all. That's why I need a distraction so I know when to leave, otherwise I'll stay out all night and lose everything. And that's not the point. You need to give me an excuse to leave," Ed said. It ... it was sort of the truth. Sort of. He just didn't include the part where he was there primarily so that he could cheat them out of their money in a petty act of revenge that, if he was being really honest, they didn't really deserve.  
  
James seemed to think about that for a while, as if he wasn't sure he was telling the whole truth, but in the end, he didn't question him. "Oh, right. Like a bit of risk-taking, hey? Well, alright. Does that mean I'm being your good boy who tells you when to leave? I'd enjoy that, I think. Wouldn't want you wasting your money away for nothing."  
  
"You can be my good boy, sure, James, why not? Yeah. You're my good conscience. What do you think about that? A bad boy like me needs a good boy like you to keep me on track, don't you think?" Ed said.  
  
James smiled. Ed noticed he seemed to like being called a good boy, which he filed away for future reference. He might have got him over the line. Perhaps. Ed sat back and looked at him. There was a question on the tip of his tongue, and he'd nearly asked it so many times already tonight. Perhaps now wasn't the best time either. Maybe no time would be best. But he had to know.  
  
"Now, this might seem like a personal question, and you really don't need to answer, but when was the last time someone really loved you?" Ed said.  
  
The happiness faded from his face, and that told Ed all he needed to know. He took his hands and James didn't protest.  
  
"Been a while, hey? Look, do you want to come home with me? Nothing funny, I promise, but you look like you need company tonight. We can watch tv all night, and eat ice cream, and commiserate our shitty relationships. How does that sound?" Ed said.  
  
James scoffed. "Ha, like you've ever had shitty relationships. No, you're the kind of guy who always gets who he wants. It's me who gets left behind. Everyone leaves me. No one leaves you."  
  
"Oh, they've left me, alright. I haven't always been the nicest guy. Got a bit too selfish, too greedy with the money, you know? Lost a couple of really good partners because of that. But I've learnt the hard way that being that guy never gets you what you really need in life, which is love. Money can't buy that, James," Ed said, and he wasn't lying. The problem with living the life he did was that he could never be honest with anyone, and as a consequence, his relationships never lasted. Perhaps James would leave too, but that was a risk he was willing to take.  
  
"But it can buy very good whisky," James said with a smile, and Ed couldn't help laughing. "Alright, I'll go home with you. I could do with a friend, since all mine have left me."  
  
Ed finished his drink and slammed the glass on the table. "Good man. Come on, drink up. The night's still young, my friend, and there is much ice cream to eat."  
  


* * *

  
At least Ed had been able to save the flat. Mark had taken good care of it so when he'd come back six months later, he'd been able to pick up where he left off, with all his belongings still intact. Sure, he couldn't do the same things anymore, but it's not like anyone from that world knew he lived here, so he was fine.  
  
It had been strange to arrive back and find the flat empty though. He missed James. And it hadn't really hit him until he was standing there, seeing that the photo he'd left for him had gone, as had the money and James. It was just empty now. It was still empty. James filled it up, and without him, the flat was just lifeless. He couldn't give all this up, could he? For James? It's not like he wasn't rich, but would James even want him back? Probably not, if tonight was anything to go by.  
  
He poured himself a whisky and went to the window, looking out over the city. Sure, the view was magnificent, it was a penthouse apartment, after all. James always loved looking out through the window and watching all the cars on the streets below. Tiny ants, he said they were. All those tiny little ant people in their little ant cars, driving around aimlessly, but he was here with Ed, and he didn't have to do that.  
  
"Fuck."  
  
There were too many memories of James here. He didn't remember any of the other boys half as much as he remembered James. He was everywhere. Every single thing in this apartment reminded him of James. Even after so long, he was sure he'd got used to it, and the memories had become faded like ghosts, there, lingering, but not quite present. But tonight, after seeing James again, they were vivid and bright and unable to be ignored.  
  
It's not like they were painful memories. Well. One of them was painful. The last one. The last time they'd seen each other. That was the painful one. But the rest were happy. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear James laughing and telling stupid jokes, or drumming incessantly on anything as he came up with stupid songs for him.  
  
But he wasn't here anymore. He hadn't been here for years. And Ed, the coward, hadn't left last. He'd left first. He should have left last. He shouldn't have left James to clear out the place. That was one of the mistakes he made. Sure, he'd been in a panic, and hadn't been thinking straight, but that was no excuse for what he'd done. He should have handled it better. Calmer. He might have even taken James with him. Laid low for a couple of days, just to see what happened, and if the cops weren't getting involved, taken James and moved to another city. That's what he should've done.  
  
Contrasting that night with all the happy memories felt strange, but it did help a little. Just because it had ended badly didn't mean the rest of the time they'd spend together was worthless. It wasn't. They had more fun in two years than Ed thought he'd ever had during the rest of his life, and that was hard to let go of. There were all the nights he'd spent with him on the sofa, watching shitty TV, or sports, or movies, or whatever else took their fancy, watching James eating fancy ice cream and bitching about the world. Ed had loved those nights. He felt closest to himself then, allowing himself to let his guard down just enough to feel like he was being genuine with him. James offered catharsis in a way no one else had before.  
  
And of course there were all the times they came home, jubilant and drunk, from a successful party, and Ed was sure he kissed him in a way he never let himself kiss him when he was sober. And the sex was amazing. James was always so trusting and willing to let Ed take charge, and even on the few occasions when the guilt crashed in on James at 2am, Ed would always be there to hold him and whisper to him that he was safe, that he was alright, that there was nothing wrong with him. And he would just kiss him and maybe they'd sit by the window, gazing out over the city, and Ed would wrap a blanket around them and say it was like angel wings, keeping him safe. And James would laugh, but he'd really love it, and snuggled up against his chest until he felt better.  
  
Those were the moments Ed remembered more than the cons themselves. Sure, they worked really well together, but the work wasn't what Ed cherished, and they did so well at it that they didn't need to do it all the time. Once a week, if that, was enough, so there was a lot of time they could spend together doing whatever they wanted to do.  
  
Sure, Ed taught him things. Street cons, card tricks, all the little things that he could use to distract people with. There was plenty of time to practice, and sometimes, they just went out and Ed watched James practice on anyone he could find to make sure he could do the work he needed to do. Of course, Ed never explicitly made it out like they were scams, just card tricks. Gambling. If people gave him money, that was on them, not him. It helped that Ed was conscious of not picking out anyone who looked like they didn't have the money to lose, so James wouldn't feel quite so bad about it.  
  
And then there was the way James insisted on making breakfast for him, and bringing it to him as if he was a servant. How he was just so enthusiastic about everything. The way James was always making him smile, and buying him little gifts. Tidying the flat, and redecorating, and being willing to be his butler, serving drinks for whoever wanted to come round for a party.  
  
Most importantly, though, James had taught Ed how to have fun. Proper fun. How to simply spend the day together in the city, not conning people, not doing anything other than simply hanging out and seeing where the day took them, whether it was to a park, or to get ice cream, or maybe to a posh restaurant, or maybe to do some shopping or even just walk around together. Ed had forgotten what that kind of life was like. How free it was to just be, and not worry about anything at all other than the person he was with. Nowhere to go, nowhere to be, nothing to do.  
  
Ed hadn't felt like that since he was a teenager, but somehow James was like that all the time. He was a drifter, just going where the waves took him. Ed didn't know how to be like that. He'd spent so much of his life chasing a very specific revenge plot until he'd been found out, and now, six years later, he still didn't really know what to do with himself. He was lost. He had no direction. Perhaps that, too, had kept him from putting in more effort to find James. He was scared of being so rudderless on his own. James just adapted, but Ed didn't know how to do that. So he'd fallen back into scamming people fairly quickly because he didn't really know what else to do with himself. James, he was sure, would have moved on to many other things by now, taking whatever opportunity presented itself. He was good at picking up new skills. Ed wasn't. Not in the same way. He felt he'd backed himself into a particular corner now that was difficult to escape from.  
  
James, at least, had developed a broad and fairly useful variety of skills, even if he wasn't always very good at them. He was just so unbothered by everything and keen to learn. So eager to please, too, if he felt it was something Ed wanted. The one that still stood out was that he'd taken cooking classes so he could cook for him when Ed got back after a long day. Ed was sure he hadn't appreciated him as much as he really deserved, if he was being honest. No one else had done that kind of thing for him. And what had he done to James? He'd broken his heart and killed the one good relationship he actually wanted to keep. Why else would he still be obsessing over him now if he didn't still love him?  
  
He had to find him. Maybe they'd never be a couple again, but at least Ed wanted a chance to explain himself and put their relationship to bed for good, if that's what James really wanted. He took out his phone and made a call.  
  
"Mark, hi, yeah, it's me. Listen, can you send me a list of the clubs you told James to hit up before you lost track of him? I want to know if he's been to any of them in the past three years, that's how long you said it'd been since you saw him, yeah? ...He must have hooked up with someone, because I saw him tonight, and if he's been out of the clubs that long, I want to know why. ...Yeah, send them here, and ask around, I want to know where he's staying now. ...Thanks, Mark, let me know if you hear anything."  
  
He hung up and slipped the phone back in his pocket, staring out at the city. James was clearly out there somewhere, but where? Was he still hooking up with men to stay with and con? Or had he found someone else? Had he left all that behind him and gone clean? Ed wouldn't have blamed him if he had. He'd never been entirely comfortable with conning money out of people, even if it was for survival. He carried too much guilt around in his face. A canary, that's what he was. First to squeal when things were bad.  
  
But he hadn't squealed, had he? As far as Ed had been able to ascertain, James had kept quiet. There was no record of him being picked up by the cops at all, and nothing to suggest they were even watching him. In spite of his broken heart, James hadn't grassed on him. It's not like he would've been in trouble. He could have bargained for immunity if he'd really wanted to. He could have sold him out for his freedom and walked away. That'd be the perfect revenge, right? But he hadn't done that. Maybe James was different. Maybe Ed hadn't really known him well at all.  
  
His phone buzzed then, and he pulled it out to see a list of clubs and contacts that Mark had sent him. He had some leads. Now to pick which ones might be most likely, and whether James had ever gone to clubs that weren't on this list.  
  
"Wow, there are a lot more kink clubs on here than I was expecting. I turned that boy into a pervert. And leather clubs, too, I see, and at least one of those is pretty hardcore. Jesus. Well. I guess I'd better see if I can find him."  
  
Filing the list away for the morning, he finished his drink, and headed into his bedroom. Nothing could be done now. He just hoped James was alright.  
  


* * *

  
Eight years ago...  
Ed was honestly surprised James was still here. In many ways, he was far too sweet to be doing this kind of work. Ed had realised that soon after he'd got him home, and begun to see how innocent he was. For the first time, he questioned his tactics. His lies. How James was gullible enough to be conned so easily. It had only been a month, and there was James, sleeping like an angel beside him, and he wanted to just wake him up and spill his guts, because he didn't want to lie to him.  
  
But of course that would put everything at risk. He wasn't sure he was willing to give up everything for him. Not yet, anyway. Things were good. He was arguably richer than he had ever planned to be, because for some reason conning people out of their money was one of his great skills. It was one of his only skills, too. He had half a thought that his father would actually admire this in him, even if he hated everything else about him. He wouldn't have the title or the mansion, but he'd have more money than him, money no one could take from him. Money he didn't have to beg for. Fuck it, he could buy himself a title if he really wanted one. These days, the aristocracy was such a crumbling mess, new money wasn't even sniffed at, not really, not if you knew how to behave properly. The new rich kids didn't care about it the way their grandparents did. Let them fritter their money away while the world burned.  
  
Then again, he was all hypocrisy and lies, so he could hardly talk. He wasn't doing this for anyone other than himself. Hoarding money like it was going out of fashion. At least he was taking it from people who wouldn't miss it. He felt he was taking the taxes they really should have been paying, but never got charged for because they knew how to get away without paying their fair share. But that analogy really only worked if he was giving the money back to the rest of society and the people who got trampled on. But he wasn't, not really. Every now and then, perhaps, if something tugged on his heartstrings enough to remind him there were other people with worse problems than him in the world, but mostly, he took it all for himself.  
  
Sleeping with James really was like having an angel in bed with him. For the first time, Ed was actually feeling a little guilty for what he was doing. Things with James had got ... messy. Very quickly. He hadn't expected them to fall for each other so quickly, so that when Ed brought up the prospect of paying him for his distracting work, James turned him down, said he was just doing it because he wanted to help his friend. It took a lot of effort to force the money into his hands and convince him it was alright for him to have it.  
  
Perhaps he didn't need James and his distractions. Perhaps for once he should just work his cons on his own and just let himself fall in love with him instead, rather than get him tangled up in his mess. He knew James wouldn't approve of what he was doing. Because it wasn't just the poker games. That was the problem. There were other cons, other swindles, other things he was doing to get money off people that he felt absolutely no guilt about because they deserved it. Those were the ones that James would hate the most because he couldn't lie his way around them like he could with the poker matches. But James didn't really need to know about those, did he? No, that's why he stayed home. Ed did that work on his own, or he sent him away if he needed the flat to himself. That was fine. That was just the best way to keep James innocent. He was just trying to protect him.  
  
The problem was that James, Ed was discovering, could get very clingy. Ed suspected James didn't really have many other friends other than him, at least, he didn't have any other friends who were available as much as Ed was, which is why he hung around so much. And Ed didn't mind, not really. He enjoyed his company very much. But James didn't seem to want to be anywhere else other than here with him, which did concern him a little. The last thing he wanted was to get into some kind of unhealthy co-dependency with him, where they would just end up hurting each other until they both broke. James didn't deserve that. But could Ed really stop it if that's what James ended up doing anyway?  
  
Ed glanced over at James. He was still sleeping. To be fair, they'd got in very late last night, dancing all across town just for the sake of it. They'd got back around 3am and crashed into bed, and that's where they still were. Ed didn't know how James could sleep so peacefully. It seemed so cruel, given he'd been awake for two hours now, and had a hangover that he couldn't just glare away.  
  
He sat up, rubbing his temples. He wanted to tell him. He wanted to wake James up and just confess everything, get it all out of the way, before they got too involved with each other. James was a baby. He was just an innocent little baby. He was far too trusting. But the other thing Ed had learned about him was that he had very fixed ideas about right and wrong, and he wasn't sure he was ready to let James go yet if he told him what he was doing. He was sure James would very strongly object to it and leave, and Ed didn't want him to leave. No. He wouldn't crack. Not for James, not for anyone.  
  
Not yet, anyway.  
  


* * *

  
The first thing Ed did when he woke the next day was check his phone to see if James had been in touch. He hadn't left completely unexpectedly. He knew it might be coming, so he'd made sure he'd set up one anonymous way for James to get in touch, because he didn't know how the dust would fall and how long it would take to settle once the truth had come out. Perhaps writing a note on the back of their favourite photo was sappy and sentimental, but he thought that would be the best place to hide it. James had always said how much he'd loved it, so he hoped he'd look there and find the email and his message. But in six years, he'd received nothing from him. No messages. Nothing.  
  
There was no message this morning either. 'No unread mail' sat there, taunting him. He hoped James had actually found the note, but perhaps he hadn't. All he knew was that the photo was gone by the time he'd returned to the flat. He assumed James had it. But until he got in touch, he didn't know if his assumption was correct.  
  
He had to find him. That's what today would be about. He'd find him and try to reach out to him again. He wasn't going to force the issue, of course, and if James didn't want to see him, so be it. He wouldn't blame him if he didn't. But he wanted to at least try to talk to him. He felt he owed him that much.  
  
It wouldn't be easy to find him. Three years was a long time in those clubs. Would anyone still remember him, and better yet, remember who he might have gone home with? Ed felt sure that was what happened. He'd actually been able to keep track of him for those first few years, and James had seemed eager to get in touch with him if Mark was indeed telling the truth about that, but Ed had always got those details too late. James was always one step ahead of him.  
  
And then he'd fallen off the radar. Mark hadn't seen him. He hadn't been in touch with anyone else he might have known. He'd vanished. Had he quit the scene completely, or was he playing the long game? It was entirely possible he was playing the long game. He'd found someone worth staying with and had enough of an opportunity to scam as much as he could from him. Ed could think of no other reason why he'd have disappeared like that. At least, he hadn't been seen in any of the regular clubs he and Ed used to go to together.  
  
He sat down and wrote out the list of contacts Mark had sent him and one by one, he called them all up, just to see if they knew him. There were some follow-up emails with James' photo attached, just to jog people's memories, but it seemed to be too late. No one remembered him.  
  
The last club on his list was a leather club, which he wasn't expecting to get anything from, but after he'd sent James' picture to them, he got a reply saying they'd only seen him a month ago with Lord Greg.  
  
That sent a shiver down his spine. He knew that name, if it was the same Lord Greg he was thinking about. He was one of the Doms who floated around the gay kink clubs, but he was also an actual Lord, possibly an Earl, but Ed had never really looked into his titles at all. He felt he remembered his face fairly well though, but decided to email back, just to confirm it was who he was thinking of. He needed to know who he was dealing with.  
  
He'd never actually had that many dealings with him, though, if he was honest. He wasn't his type, not really. Ed didn't really go for Doms, he wasn't submissive enough. His lingering memory of him from the clubs was that he was the go-to for a good whipping, and he always seemed to have a collection of stray boys at his side who seemed to worship him. But he wasn't a regular at the parties either, nor did he play poker. Besides, everything he heard about him told him he seemed to be a good man, and he wasn't in the mood to ruin someone who didn't deserve it. That, and he could hit like a fucking truck, and Ed wasn't in the mood to be on the receiving end of his violence if he could help it.  
  
Thinking back, Ed remembered that he had actually stayed with him once upon a time. A very long time ago. Not _with_ him, of course, but in the basement flat with some other young theatre boys. He hadn't stayed long, maybe a few weeks after he'd turned nineteen, and he was back in London again with nothing more than an idea in his head, and nowhere to stay. How had he met him? Possibly at a club somewhere, he thought, but he didn't really remember. Maybe someone had given him his name, or said there was a bed going. Ed didn't remember the details anymore, and he had hardly seen Lord Greg anyway apart from when he'd first moved in.  
  
Those few weeks had been valuable though. He hadn't been back in London since he was nine, but that wasn't his fault. His parents had split, he'd been torn away from his posh school and all his friends and sent into the wilderness with his mother, and he'd come back as an adult, filled with a seething hatred for his father and the rest of the aristocracy. Those few weeks were enough to set him up on his own, and prove he could get all the money he needed through his own charm and confidence. He could move on to bigger and better things.  
  
He'd never been poor though, much as he might make it sound that way. His mother wasn't stupid. He'd learnt a lot about how to manage money from her. He'd had a good middle-class upbringing, and had everything he could want. But his father remarrying and disinheriting him was the kicker that sent him from merely annoyed at being outcast into planning revenge. As his first-born son, he was going to make sure he got what was rightfully his, even if it meant taking everything from them all, just to watch them all suffer the losses he'd suffered. He didn't study finance and accounting for nothing. He'd burn all the noble houses to the ground if he could, but not before he'd robbed them of everything they had.  
  
Sure, perhaps he might be accused of having anger issues. But it wasn't a short fuse, it was a long-burning slow fire that consumed him. That was a different kind of anger altogether because his was fuelled by a deep sense of injustice. Sure, he could still challenge his step-brother for the title if he wanted it that badly, and he'd definitely win since he was the first born and that was all that mattered when the title was inherited. But that wasn't enough. That wasn't the kind of revenge he wanted. The worst thing about a slow burning fire was that the damage wasn't obvious at all unless it suddenly got out of control, so he could do quite a lot of damage before he was found out, if he was ever found out at all.  
  
But none of that mattered anymore. It hadn't really mattered since James left. He'd ruined the one good thing in his life and he'd probably never get him back now. James would never trust him again, and he didn't blame him for that at all. He had deceived him. He'd lied to him. He'd concealed the truth from him. Of course James had every reason to hate him and never trust him again. But he still felt they had unfinished business. They needed to say goodbye properly. Then, perhaps, Ed could move on and do something else and stop obsessing about him.  
  


* * *

  
Seven years earlier...  
It had been a very good night for Ed. He'd cleaned out very well before he'd got James to get them kicked out. His opponents had come with a lot of money to lose and he'd taken most of it. James had done his job perfectly too, starting up some improvised karaoke by interrupting the band and then encouraging everyone to sing along before he was hauled off the stage by security and thrown out. Ed finished his hand, and closed out the match to give himself a way out that didn't look suspicious. He found James sitting on the stairs outside, laughing.  
  
"How good was that? I managed to get on stage! I was brilliant! How'd you go? You didn't lose too much this time?" James said.  
  
"No, no, I didn't. You did well tonight, James. Got me out of there in time before I lost it all. Come on, let's get out of here," Ed said as he wrapped an arm around his shoulders, hoping James wouldn't get curious about the contents of the bag he was now carrying with him.  
  
"Yeah! Ice cream then? Can we please?" James said, excitedly.  
  
Ed kissed his cheek. "Sure, we can go get some ice cream for my baby boy. You've earned it."  
  
"Yeah! Ice cream!" James whooped and punched the air as he skipped ahead.  
  
Ed loved his enthusiasm. He really loved how he could take such joy in the simple things. He'd been hurt so much, but he was still so happy. He wasn't sure how he managed that. Ed certainly didn't know how to do that. He just got angry. James, it seemed, just go on with life. He was so easily cheered up too. Happiness for James came in the simple things in life. Good food, good friends, good music, and an abundance of ice cream. That was all he seemed to need to be happy.  
  
James had hailed a cab before Ed could call for one, and they climbed in the back together as James gave him the address for the late-night ice cream place they'd taken to going to after parties like this, just for a treat. Well, it was a treat for James, at any rate. Ed wouldn't have any, but it was enough to watch James pick out what flavours he wanted and enjoy his ice cream with child-like enthusiasm.  
  
James wanted banana and mango tonight, with chocolate buttons and sprinkles. Something about James seemed very beautiful tonight as he sat there, telling Ed about everything he'd got up to at the party while Ed had been playing poker. James didn't know the people the way Ed did, so hearing his descriptions of people he'd seen or talked to was always a highlight as he tried to guess who he was talking about.  
  
It's not like he hadn't done this kind of thing with his other boys when he'd been working with them, but somehow James made it fun in a way the others never did. Perhaps they had just taken it all too seriously. It was work. For James, this was fun.  
  
But then a lot had changed in a year. James had changed him. The more he learnt about James, the more he felt guilty holding onto the millions that he'd stashed away in secret accounts where no one could find it. James was a good kid at heart. He wasn't really cut out for this world of cons and scams, not like he was. But perhaps James had made him start giving some of the money out to charities. He hadn't told him to, of course. But perhaps Ed really did want to be different to the people he was taking money off. Maybe he didn't want to just stash it away like they were doing. Maybe it should be doing something good in the world. Well, something better, perhaps.  
  
James didn't know, of course. He couldn't know. Everything would be ruined if he knew. But was it worth it? Was James worth the lies? Was the money worth the lies if it cost him James?  
  
Ed would find out when they got home later that night. He usually didn't like sorting out his cash while James was there to watch because he didn't want James growing suspicious or asking too many questions. The less he knew the better. So he waited until he thought James was asleep before he got his winnings out to count it all out and make sure it was all there.  
  
This was, in some ways, the most tedious part of the job. In order to make it disappear, it had to be counted out into much smaller groups of five grand each, just to make it easier to pass around. He'd be up all night counting this lot, but that didn't matter. He'd definitely have to do something about the diamond necklace though. He hadn't asked for that, but he couldn't keep it. He needed to get rid of it, preferably back to the woman it rightfully belonged to, if only as a gesture of goodwill so they didn't look on the con with too much care. A conman wouldn't give back a diamond necklace would he? No, he'd keep it. It was worth a lot more than the cash he'd collected, but he didn't need it nor want it. It wasn't worth the trouble. Diamonds were traceable in ways cash wasn't. He wasn't going to risk giving himself up that way.  
  
Ed dealt with the tedium by putting some of his favourite music on, low enough not to disturb James, got all the things he needed, grabbed some snacks and settled down on the sofa to count the money, emptying the contents of the bag onto the coffee table in front of him.  
  
"God, I really should stop taking 500k at a time, this will take hours. And James is so nosy, I can't just send him away. He'll hate that. He hates not knowing what I'm up to. He'd better just stay asleep, that's all I'm asking. If there's any god out there, let James sleep all night. That's all I need," Ed murmured as he began counting.  
  
The only consolation was that everything was in £100 notes, and some were already bound together, so at least he didn't need to do any complicated maths. He just needed to count to fifty. That was entirely doable. He had a notepad beside him to tally up how many he'd made so he could get a better idea of the total amount he'd taken that night.    
  
God, James was making this so complicated. If James ever saw this kind of cash, he'd know something was up. He'd seen some of his smaller winnings, maybe 50k or so, but not this kind of haul. Ed had done his best to keep James from seeing this. He didn't need to know. He couldn't comprehend the kind of money Ed was used to dealing with. He'd see this, and the only conclusion he'd have was that he'd stolen it. If it had just been poker winnings, perhaps Ed might have an out, but it wasn't. It was collecting on a long con he'd started months ago, and clearly, it had been worth the effort. He just needed James to sleep so he didn't see this.  
  
He was really beginning to hate lying to him so much, if he was being brutally honest. Everything about him was fake. His name, his background, his money, everything was a lie constructed to make people trust him. It concealed his true motives from view, and the regular poker matches were a way to ingratiate himself into their company before he took everything they had. No one complained of losing money playing poker. Everyone sat around that table knew the stakes. They'd come knowing they could lose everything they'd brought with them. Ed knew the risks, and he'd had some big loses of his own through being too cocky by half and not seeing the danger before he was cleaned out.  
  
It had been a bit like that tonight, if he was honest. He'd been too preoccupied with finishing the long con that he hadn't really been focusing on the cards. He'd come in with 100k and lost half of it, but he didn't mind. The rest of the night would more than make up for the losses, as evidenced by the cash he was now counting out.  
  
He didn't hear James until it was too late. He didn't know how long he'd been standing there, but his tone of voice was as bad as Ed expected it would be if he ever saw this kind of money.  
  
"Where the fuck did you get so much money? I-I thought - you said you lost half of it tonight! This doesn't look like half! Where- did you steal it? Tell me you didn't steal it. Th-that's a diamond necklace, isn't it? God, are we in trouble? Did I help you steal that? I-I'm not going down as an accessory! I didn't know! You-you lied to me! You said you were just playing poker! Where did all this come from? Answer me! Tell me it's not stolen!" James said, gesticulating his panic.  
  
Ed sat back, looking at him pacing madly across the room, seemingly unable to deal with the situation. "It's not stolen, James. It was given to me. It's not stealing if they give it to you willingly."  
  
"No, no, I did _not_ sign up for this. I knew this was too good to be true. You're - you're a criminal! You're a bad man, and I'm going to jail for this, I just know it. I'm a good boy, Ed! I'm a good boy! I don't steal! I don't want to get involved in this!" James said, sounding a little more hysterical now.  
  
"You didn't do anything, James, I promise. You had nothing to do with this. This is all my problem, not yours. Besides, it's not like I'm keeping it. It'd be madness to keep this much cash. I'm giving it away because it's going to do more good that way than if I just hold on to it. Then I'm no better than the people who give me their money to begin with," Ed said.  
  
"No, that's just... that's all lies, Ed. You stole it, and-and you're going to just give it away, huh? That's like, money laundering, isn't it? This is fraud! I'm in love with a fraudster! You'll see, it won't stay like this, you'll get caught out and you'll end up in jail! That's what always happens! You can't hide your tracks forever. They'll find you out and you'll be dead or in prison. That's how this works!" James said.  
  
Ed couldn't tell if he was being hysterical because he didn't want him to get caught, or if he was just getting too carried away in his own head. But either way, he had to reassure him and calm him down. He got up and went over to him and grasped his shoulders.  
  
"Look at me, James."  
  
James didn't want to, but he did, after some coaxing. He still looked anxious and worried, so Ed grasped his face and kissed him, softly, sweetly, trying to calm him down. James fought him for a moment, and when Ed looked back on it, he thought it was a bit of a dick move, but then James just completely relaxed into it and Ed hugged him tight.  
  
"You're not in trouble, I'm not in trouble, no one's in trouble, alright? You're safe, you're fine. You'll be alright," Ed said, hoping he was being reassuring.  
  
"No, you're just saying that, we're going to get caught, someone's gonna miss that much money, right?" James said, clinging to him.  
  
"Trust me, they won't. You might think it's a lot, but it's not, not really. Not in their world. I promise it's not fraud. It's not some kind of criminal enterprise. They're giving me money willingly. That's not stealing, alright? It's fine. They know what they're doing, and I'm in no way misrepresenting myself either. It's fine. I'm just going to do a thing for them, that's why they gave me all that money. I just need to return the diamonds to them, because that's not what I asked for, and they didn't need to give that up for me. The rest will be given away. Charities, shelters, whoever needs it, I promise. It's going to do some good in this world, alright? Something better than what these people want from me," Ed said.  
  
"Yeah right, I've never seen you give any money away. You don't do charity. Where's the proof of any of this? This is all lies, I swear, you're just trying to get me back into bed again, aren't you?" James said.  
  
"I'm not, I promise, I wouldn't do that to you, James, you know I wouldn't. Sure, I have to maintain a certain lifestyle, but I really don't need this much. I've got enough already. This is extra. Look, why don't you find a charity we can give this to? Lots of charities, even, if you want, since it's all cash and we can spread it around. We could give five grand to fifty charities. That's a lot of good work this money can do. What do you think about that?" Ed said.  
  
James seemed to think about this, but he didn't look like he was about to protest. "So-so we could just give this to people who need it? All of it? You're not going to keep any of it?"  
  
"Of course not. Like I said, I don't need it. I'll return the diamonds, and we'll give the rest of it away. You probably have a better idea of who needs this money more than I do, right? So you can help me with that. I live up here with my parties and my rich friends and my poker nights, but I don't know what poverty's really like. You've seen it. I haven't. You know who really needs this money. Be my good angel and help me put this money to good use, yeah?" Ed said.  
  
James smiled at that. "You want me to be your good angel? Yeah, I can do that. I-I do know who can use this money. I'll help you. We'll be good angels together! Helping people out. Like-like modern day Robin Hoods! That's us, right?"  
  
"Stealing from the rich to give to the poor? So that kind of stealing is fine, is it, James?" Ed said, teasing him more than he was chiding him.  
  
"Oh, well, yes, I mean, it's not stolen. It was given to you. So I suppose that makes it alright, yeah?" James said.  
  
"Yeah, it was given to me. Come on, come and help me finish counting this. You might as well, since you're awake. Unless you want to go back to sleep, of course," Ed said. "I can explain a bit more about how you get rid of this much cash without it looking suspicious, even if it's come from legitimate sources, if that would help reassure you."  
  
"Oh, do you- Oh, I guess it would look weird if you went around with that much money, wouldn't it? Because people would think it was stolen, but it wasn't, was it? So of course you have to be careful with it. Why are you counting it anyway? What's that about? How do you even get people to give you that much money anyway?"  
  
Ed smiled as he gestured to the sofa. "That, my friend, is a closely guarded secret, but really, it's very easy once you know how. I could even teach you how to do it. You'd never be hungry again once you know how to make a thousand quid just by using simple card tricks."  
  
"No. I don't believe you. No way is it that easy," James said.  
  
"Well, I've already taught you the tricks, you just need to learn how to perform them. Imagine not having to actually work, James. All you need to do is go out, spend an hour or so doing card tricks at a pub on a Saturday night in the right part of town, and make all you need to live off. That's where I started, and I've never looked back. Money is easy to get in London. You just need to know the right places to go. I can teach you that. Do you want to know how to do that?" Ed said.  
  
"Oh, I have to know, go on, teach me everything you know," James said.  
  
Everyone was hungry for money and James was no different. Ed could tell as his eyes widened as he realised just how easy it could be. For a guy who'd struggled for years, the prospect of being able to make enough money with little effort was too great to resist. Ed had perfected his way of explaining it so that it didn't sound like a scam, even though that's what it really was. It was playing cards against the House in a casino, except you were the House instead, rigging everything in your favour and disguising that fact with enough smoke and mirrors that no one realised what was happening. Everyone loved magic tricks. Everyone. That's why it worked.  
  
"Sit down, and start counting out bundles of fifty notes each and I'll explain as we work," Ed said.  
  


* * *

  
Ed sat on the sofa, gazing absently at Lord Greg's house on Google Earth, idly wondering how much it had changed since he'd last been there. In some ways, it was simply pure fantasy, as he'd never been inside his actual house, just stayed in the flat beneath it. But perhaps the flat had been remodelled.  
  
James probably wasn't staying in the basement though, not if he was with Lord Greg now. He'd be somewhere in the main house. Did he have servants? Was James one of his servants? Every Peer he'd ever met had at least one servant, and he didn't think Lord Greg was any different from the rest. He didn't really remember much else from his time there, mostly because he didn't really hang around. He was always off setting things up, making his new life a reality before he moved on and began putting his plans into action.  
  
A couple of the boys did talk though, in the evenings, perhaps after a few drinks, when Ed was able to just practice coaxing information out of people willingly. They didn't say much, of course, but it was enough to build up a picture of Lord Greg that he only really confirmed for himself when he went into the gay clubs and discovered his reputation there. James did seem his type, though. Lord Greg did like a very particular type of boy, and James was exactly the type he would love. Needy, broken, fragile, someone who needed to be protected and taken care of. Boys who needed him in some way.  
  
Ed would never be that kind of boy. He was too confident, too self-assured. Too able to take care of himself. They'd clash too much. Lord Greg would try to dominate him, and Ed would simply push back because he bowed to no one. He didn't need to be taken care of. He'd always had to take care of himself. He couldn't rely on others, they didn't know him the way he knew himself. He was better off alone.  
  
There was something so tantalising about knowing where James was now, knowing he wasn't going to miss out this time. James was in that house somewhere. That's where he lived now. He didn't blame him for falling for Lord Greg though. He did have a reputation for being a kind and generous man, and Ed really couldn't compete with that. He'd built his entire adult life on lies and fraud. Lord Greg was nothing like him. He was better for James, anyway. He could take care of him, and he probably loved him honestly too. There were no lies there.  
  
Perhaps he ought to leave him alone. He'd made it pretty clear he didn't want to see him. But maybe he owed him something. Some final goodbye? A letter? Some kind of explanation that he could leave with him and go. Ed wouldn't try to win him back, though. He was quite certain that relationship was dead and buried. James wouldn't have him back, and Ed was sure he didn't deserve him anyway. But at the very least, he wanted to explain what he'd done and why, and to apologise for all the ways he'd ruined something he didn't realise he cared so much about until it was gone. James hadn't done anything wrong. Ed had loved him, but it hadn't been enough. He had too many secrets to keep to give himself to James in the way that James gave himself to Ed.  
  
He should really get out of the flat. It had too many memories of James in it, and he was clearly doing himself no favours by sitting here gazing at the house, and trying to justify to himself that this clearly wasn't stalking. It was 100% stalking and he knew very well that's what it was. James didn't want to see him. Ed very much wanted to, one last time. He'd tracked down where he was staying. He could just go over there and see him. But he was sure James wouldn't appreciate that and it might just make reconciliation a lot worse.  
  
Sure, there was always the risk he'd end up outside Lord Greg's house if he went outside. But it was better than sitting in here, moping about like a lost child, feeling sorry for himself. He needed to walk. Get some fresh air. Stop staring at that house and plotting what he'd do if he went around to see him. No. He needed to leave now and get all of that out of his head.  
  
He closed the laptop, finished his lunch, and left the flat behind. He was going to forget about James. That's definitely what he was going to do. He wasn't going to walk around London, going over every single memory of their relationship, scolding himself for how badly he'd fucked it up. Definitely not. 

* * *

  
Six years earlier...  
Ed ran. He didn't usually run from parties, but he'd run from this one. The ruse was up. He'd told too many lies and he'd been found out. He should never have specified which school he'd gone to, because someone would definitely check one day if he picked the same sort of school everyone there went to, and they'd find out he didn't exist. Fuck. The worst of it was that it had to happen when he was clearly about 20k up and about to clean out another 50k, and in his panic to leave, he'd left it all behind. He didn't want them to think about everything else he'd told them, nor give them a chance to potentially recognise him for who he really was. No, he had to leave, and he had to leave now.  
  
He didn't run all the way back to the flat, of course. He changed his route, took detours, ran through the Tube a few times to throw anyone off the scent, before he got back to his flat. It was late, really late. He'd left James at home this time because James hadn't felt up to a distraction, which was fine. He could have used one though, that might have been enough for him to at least grab some of the cash, but no. James had stayed home, and he was probably asleep, and Ed had to clear out now and make sure he wasn't in London once dawn came. And he needed to get James to leave too. He couldn't leave James here on his own, he'd crumble without him.  
  
Of course, he didn't know if anyone would call the cops on him. Perhaps they simply thought he was some guy who'd simply blagged his way into their poker circle for shits and giggles, but was otherwise essentially harmless. Or perhaps they weren't willing to let the cops know just how much they'd lost in illegal gambling, because that too had been going on at those parties as much as the poker had. Ed hadn't been the only one trying to clean money and he could tell on them as much as they could tell on him. Only, he'd be the one in trouble because that's how this always worked, and he couldn't say who he really was or the whole thing would be over. His money would be gone. His reputation would be in tatters. He'd probably be in jail.  
  
No. He would disappear for a while, lie low, see if this whole thing blows over enough for him to at least come back to London in a few months. Sure, he'd never be welcome in those circles again, but that didn't bother him. He was comfortably wealthy on his own. The money was hidden and dispersed so he could plausibly deny he owned it, but that wasn't the point. He didn't need it. It was his safety plan. If he didn't make anywhere near as much money for the rest of his life, he could still live very comfortably indeed and never want for anything.  
  
He'd always planned for this eventuality. He wasn't stupid. There was always the chance someone would figure it out, or he'd let slip after a few drinks. He did look a lot like his father, which didn't help, but there wasn't anything he could do about that unless he wanted to permanently alter his face, and he didn't want to do that.  
  
It was, however, too late for plan A, which was the train to Ashford and then the Eurostar to the Continent. So, plan B it was, which was to drive to Dover and get the ferry across. Neither were particularly ideal, but the faster he could get away, the better. He'd vanish, and there'd be nothing left for anyone to find. Someone would come and do a final cleanout of the apartment of the few sensitive things that were left, and keep them in storage for him until he could come and get them. If he hadn't come back in six months, they were to be destroyed, just in case.  
  
He went straight to the safe, hidden behind a bathroom cupboard, and grabbed everything he needed: fake passport, ferry ticket, driver's licence, and about a grand in cash to tide him over in case he needed to bribe someone. There was also a burner phone and a spare charger that he pulled out. It had one number in it, and once he'd sent the one message he needed to send once he’d got outside London, he'd crush this and discard it, and turn his back on the life he'd lived here. There was also one little pocket book that contained all the secret account information he needed to access his money, and a couple of other travel documents he might need in case anyone started asking questions.  
  
He packed light, just a few changes of clothes. He could get the rest in France, change his look entirely, and not look like a British tourist. There was a safehouse there where he could lie low for a while, and another one in Spain. He'd be fine. He hoped James would be fine, too. He'd taught him a lot over the past year, hoping he'd skilled him up enough to survive on his own without him. He hadn't been planning for this, of course, but it was going to happen one way or another and better James be able to get by without him than crumble and turn him in.  
  
Before he woke James to say goodbye, he went to find the one photo of them both he'd allowed James to keep on display and took the back of the frame off. He hoped James would take it, because he was leaving him a message there, just for him. He didn't want to disappear without leaving him some way of getting in touch. James was too important for that.  
  
Then he just had to wake James up. God, it was so late, he didn't want to wake him, but he had to. James had to leave too. Ed crept in quietly, dreading this conversation. If he thought he could keep James safe with him, he'd take him with him in a heartbeat. But James wasn't as experienced with the kind of deception needed to get away with that, and Ed didn't want to put him in danger. So they had to part ways for his sake, even though it would kill him.  
  
Ed knelt down by the bed, watching James sleeping. He reached up to brush his hair. God, he would miss him so much. He wanted to cherish this moment.  
  
"James, James wake up. James, we have to leave, you're in danger," Ed said, not trying to keep his voice down.  
  
He offered some gentle shoves, trying to rouse him. James groaned and didn't look like he wanted to wake up. Ed kept trying.  
  
"James, please, you have to get up. We have to leave. I have to leave. I really don't want to, I never wanted us to part ways like this, but I gotta lie low for a while. James, please, wake up. I need you to get out of here," Ed said.  
  
James opened his eyes then and squinted at him in the dim light. Ed had turned a lamp on, but that was all the light there was. Ed didn't want to risk anything more in case he couldn't keep it together.  
  
"Ed? What's going on? Where're you going? What are you on about?" James said, sitting up.  
  
"I'm sorry, baby boy, I gotta go. I got in some trouble, and I need to disappear for a while, and so do you. It's safer for you if you're not with me. I'm going to hate every day I'm apart from you, but I'll come back for you, I promise. I won't leave you alone, I won't abandon you, I'll come and find you and we'll be alright, I promise," Ed said.  
  
"No, no, no, this isn't happening, you're not going, don't leave me, what kind of danger are you in? Does that mean I'm in danger too?" James said, and Ed could tell he was beginning to panic as well.  
  
"A little, but you need to be away from me. No one can see us together. You have to forget you ever knew me, alright? I know that's so hard, James, and I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it was important, but I need you to do this one last thing for me, alright? Do you think you can do that for me?" Ed said.  
  
James was audibly crying now. He grasped Ed's face, kissed him, didn't want to let him go. "No, I won't do that. I won't forget you. Don't make me forget you. I won't. I won't. Anything but that, please, Ed," James said softly.  
  
Ed brought him into a hug. Now he didn't want to leave either, but he had no choice. "If you want me to be safe and come back for you, you have to do this for me, promise me, James. Promise you'll deny ever knowing me. You have to keep me safe so I can come back for you."  
  
"No, no, I won't. This is just you breaking up with me, isn't it? That's what this is. You're never coming back. I'm going to be left alone and abandoned and you'll run away and find someone else, I just know it," James said.  
  
"No, James, I'm not abandoning you. If I cared so little about you, why would I waste all this precious time saying goodbye to you? I'd have left while you were sleeping. But I'm here, James. I'm here. I'm here because I've never loved anyone like I love you before, and that scares me. You've seen more of me than anyone else ever has, and I don't want to leave you. I can't just leave you. It hurts so much to just leave you, but I have to. I don't want you to get in trouble because of me. So just go, find safety, stay there, stay with Mark until I come for you. It'll blow over, I promise. Pinkie promise, even," Ed said, linking their pinkies together. "I'll come back for you, I promise. We'll never be apart again."  
  
"But I don't want to. I can't live without you, Ed, please, don't leave me. Take me with you, Ed, please. I'll be good, I promise. I'll keep hidden, I won't play up, I'll be a good boy, I promise," James said.  
  
"God, I wish it were that easy, James, but you're better off on your own. Look, there's ten grand in the safe. Take it and go find Mark. Stay with him, yeah? He'll help you. You can trust him. You remember where to find him, right?" Ed said.  
  
James nodded reluctantly and wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve. "Yes, Ed, I do, but I don't want to go."  
  
"I don't want to go, either, but better leave now before they come and get us. Look, maybe nothing will happen, and this is all for nothing, but better safe than sorry yeah? Stay with Mark. I won't be long, maybe a few months at most, but I'll miss you every single day. Just do this one last thing for me, yeah, then I'll be right back in your arms again, I promise," Ed said.  
  
"But you always keep me safe, Ed. Where will I go without you? This is my home too. I can't just leave. You can't just leave. I don't want to be homeless again. I don't have anything. I've got nothing if I don't have you," James said.  
  
"I did, I promised I would always keep you safe, and right now, that means leaving you behind. Do you know how much I don't want to do this? I wouldn't let you go if I didn't think it was necessary. You need to be away from me or you'll get caught up in all this too, and I don't want that for you. I'm not leaving you with nothing though. Listen to me, James. Take the rest of the money in the safe and spend it, do it just like I taught you how to do, yeah, all in little bits? Go and be the best little street magician I taught you how to be. That Trojan horse of a grifter with an angel face who always gets what he wants. Go and show them you can be as good as me, so that when I get back, you can show me how much you've improved. You can do this, I know you can," Ed said. He kissed him, fiercely, aware he was crying now too, knowing he had to go. "I can't stay, baby boy, I got a train to catch. Take care, always keep yourself safe, and I'll be back with you very soon, I promise."  
  
"No, please don't leave me, Ed, please," James whispered, clinging to him.  
  
Ed wanted to stay, he really did, but he knew he'd stayed longer than he needed to. Longer than he should. He pulled away from him, and he'd never felt such pain for someone before. He'd hurt James, but he'd also hurt himself, and he wasn't prepared for it. He stood, pulled his bag over his shoulder, and hoped this wouldn't be the last time he saw him.  
  
"I have to go, baby boy, I gotta keep you safe, just like I promised I always would. I'll miss you every day, but I'll be back, I promise. I'll come back and find you and we'll never be apart again, I promise," Ed said.  
  
He bent down and kissed him. "Never forget how much I love you," he whispered to him, before he summoned all the courage he had and turned and left, refusing to look back. He knew if he looked back, he'd never leave.  
  
The rest of the journey was a blur of tears and panic. He thought leaving would be easy when he'd set this plan up. But he hadn't counted on falling in love. It's fair to say the metal he was playing in the car was up loud enough to drown out his sorrows. But it didn't help as he turned his back on the only man he'd ever truly loved.  
  


* * *

  
"Hey, long time no see. Where have you been?"  
  
Ed looked up and realised where he was. It was the ice cream place he'd always taken James to. They'd spent so many late nights and many, many lazy days in here. And clearly it hadn't changed much because the man who owned it was still there, and he remembered them. Perhaps they'd been here too much, but maybe that didn't matter. This place just reminded him of James.  
  
"Oh, hey Giorgio. Yeah. I had to go away for a while. Things got messy. But I'm back now. How are things with you? Do you miss your best customers?" Ed said, trying to be cheerful as he went inside.  
  
Giorgio smiled. "Of course I miss you, but it's not like James stopped coming. I only saw him here last month with a couple of other men. At least he seemed happy. You sure as shit don't though. Bad break-up, hey?"  
  
Ed sighed. "Yeah, something like that. It's too complicated to explain. But yeah, we broke up. It was my fault. Everything was my fault. The first guy I fall in love with and I fuck it up so badly I doubt he'll ever want to see me again. I ran into him last night and he just fled from me. I never wanted to hurt him, but I did. I don't know how to make that better."  
  
"You never quite know how good something is until it's gone, do you? Man, I'm sorry to hear that. You two were so good together. Maybe you could write to him? Do you know where he is now? Maybe a letter will help," Giorgio said.  
  
"Yeah, I know where he is, but I don't know if he'd want to hear from me. I suppose I could try though. What do you even say in a letter like that?" Ed said.  
  
"Just write and pour your heart out. Don't overthink it or you'll end up making it worse. And definitely don't say what you think he wants to hear. Sometimes the truth hurts, but it's better than lies, you know? If he really still loves you after that, you'll know," Giorgio said.  
  
"Yeah, you're right about that. That was one of the problems. Too many lies. I was just trying to keep him safe, but I should have known he wasn't going to be like the other boys. I shouldn't have lied to him. Maybe clearing the air will help. Maybe it won't. But it's better than not trying, isn't it? Do you think it's worth reaching out to him? He might never want to see me again, and I wouldn't blame him if he didn't," Ed said.  
  
"You clearly still care a lot about him or you wouldn't be this cut up about it, so yeah, it's probably worth it. Maybe you two just need proper closure, I don't know. But what do you lose from telling him the truth? Maybe it's what he really needs to hear from you," Giorgio said.  
  
"Maybe. Alright. I'll at least try to write to him. Maybe you're right. Maybe I do need to try to reach out to him. I wouldn't blame him for throwing it out, but I have to try at the very least. Thanks, man. I'll see you later," Ed said.  
  
"Seeya round, Ed. Do you want me to tell James you've been here? He still comes here pretty regularly these days," Giorgio said.  
  
"You can tell him if you like. It's a free country. It's not like he doesn't know I'm back in town," Ed said. "Anyway, I'd better go. Maybe I'll go write that letter."  
  
"Yeah, you do that. Good luck, my friend," Giorgio said.  
  
"Thanks, I think I'll need it," Ed said.  
  


* * *

  
Six years ago...  
He'd spent six months in France, and if he was honest, it had been a pretty breezy holiday. James would have loved it. There were so many good restaurants to go to, and so many lovely places to visit. Every day, he regretted not bringing him along with him. What would it have hurt to have him with him? Would it really have been that dangerous? Or were his reactions just down to the panic he was feeling and he'd taken five minutes to think about it clearly, this wouldn't have been a problem?  
  
He didn't know, if he was honest. But he ended up ordering so many things to eat that he knew James would like, just so he could tell him about them later. He kept a small journal of every restaurant and his review of it, so that he could take James to all the best places when he got back.  
  
The only problem was, James, it seemed, had not been in touch. Perhaps Ed might have thought this was just James trying to protect him, but that wasn't the case. Mark had told him James had not taken being left behind very well at all, and now James' silence was something that troubled him. Maybe he really should have taken him with him.  
  
He certainly hadn't been back to the flat. Ed returned to find it cold and empty and dark, just the way he'd left it, albeit tidied up a little by Mark once he'd gone. The photo that he'd left for James had been taken. Mark swore it hadn't been there when he went to clean up, so Ed had to assume James had taken it. But perhaps he didn't know there was a message there for him.  
  
It'd take about a week to settle back in here again. A lot of his things were in storage. And he would have to figure out what to do with his life now. He couldn't go back to scamming rich people from their money anymore. He knew he'd been banned and blacklisted in a lot of places now, so he'd have to think of something else. It didn't need to make him the same kind of money, either. He didn't need it. He was set up for life. Several lifetimes, even. But he couldn't just sit around here all day, he'd get very bored.  
  
He wished James was there. James would know what to do. He'd have a million different ideas for things they could do. And since they didn't need money, they could do whatever they wanted. Go wherever they liked. Spend a month in France, simply because they could. Maybe travel all around the world, trying out all kinds of new foods they'd never tried before. Maybe he could even buy a castle somewhere and they could live there. Get out of London. Live a comfortable life in a castle and forget about everything else.  
  
Ed gazed down at the piece of paper in his hand. This was James' last address that he'd given to Mark. The only problem was, James seemed to have moved on, and no one seemed to know where. Mark promised he'd let Ed know where he was if he ever got in touch again. He'd let James know Ed was back and where to find him. Ed had to trust they could get back in touch. He didn't want to lose him, but he was afraid he already had.  
  
He walked over to the window, looking out at the dark city below. Somewhere out there was James, just one of the millions of people who lived here. Lost in the crowds. Ed had no idea how he would ever find him unless James came to him. He'd taught James to live like that too well, to be able to move around with no fixed address, to become invisible in the city as he slipped through people's lives, taking whatever he needed. He didn't think it would make James impossible to find, but of course it would. James had been very good at that.  
  
This was all his fault. Ed had driven James away, and now he had nothing. Well, nothing except more money than he'd ever really needed. But money couldn't bring James back. Nothing could bring him back. James was gone. He'd hurt him, broken up with him, and now he'd lost the one good thing in his life. He was such an idiot.  
  


* * *

  
Ed left the ice cream parlour and had wandered all over London, inexplicitly drawn to all the places he'd ever been with James. Even here, he'd left his fingerprints all over the city. His memories. All the places James loved to go, where he'd taught Ed how to have fun. All the places where they'd been to parties and been thrown out. That old whisky bar where he'd first taken James, and invited him back to his house for the first time. Chris the bouncer was still there, and perhaps, in better circumstances, Ed might have taken a drink, but he didn't want to be there, not now. All the concerts they’d gone to that perhaps neither of them would never have attended unless the other had suggested it. All the days spent idly passing time, exploring new places, or even going on day trips to the seaside if they wanted to.  
  
Every park he passed reminded him of all the days they'd gone out to have picnics together, lying around in the warm sunshine, and just whiling the hours away together. James lying on his back, gazing up at the sky, telling him what the clouds looked like. Playing tig with a group of teenagers they found one time, who enjoyed the harmless fun of running around. Watching James' annoyance as his ice cream melted and dripped down his hand, and being unable to just lick it up in that sappy, romantic way that lovers do. Even just watching James try to arrange his gangly limbs with any kind of elegance. Or that time a raven tried to steal their pie, and James got swooped for his troubles.  
  
Then there were all the times they’d gone to the zoo, where James had spent so much time giving all the animals silly voices. Ed was sure he knew the layout off by heart by now, and he was almost tempted to go back one day, just to see how much it had changed, but he was sure it’d be no fun without him. James just had a way of making anything fun, and Ed missed that terribly.  
  
Ed sat down on a bench in Regent's Park. He knew why he was there, why he'd found himself in this part of London over any other part. That was where Lord Greg lived. James was just over there in one of those fancy townhouses. He was so close to him, and yet so far away. He'd bought a notepad, an envelope, and a pen on his wanderings, knowing he should write to him, but not knowing what to say.  
  
It was late now, of course. He'd spent a lot of time wandering. There were so many places where he and James had left memories. He'd eaten a quite unsatisfying curry for dinner, because nothing tasted good anymore, not without James. It had been different before he'd known where he was. Now that connection was so close. He knew he could simply wander over and knock on the door and James would probably be there. It was tangible now in a way it hadn't been before.  
  
Something about being here was helping to clear his head. He started writing, taking Giorgio’s advice to not censor or overthink himself, but to just write and let it be all from the heart. Perhaps this would end up being his final confession before he was arrested. Perhaps James would simply burn it without even reading it, destroying all the evidence. Perhaps he would read it, but just not care. He certainly wouldn't try to reach out after this. One letter, that's all he would send. Then he'd leave him alone and wait to see if he responded.  
  
His phone buzzed. He might have ignored it if he hadn't been anxiously checking all day to see if James had emailed him at last. All day, it had just been the most boring usual emails he didn't care about. That inbox, set up just for James, remained stubbornly empty. Until now. Ed had to stare at his phone for several minutes before he could believe it was real.  
  
"Fuck. God, I hope he's not angry at me," Ed said before he opened it.  
  
It was a short email. And, if Ed was honest, he was just thankful James had written at all. He didn't want to see him yet, which Ed understood, but that hanging 'yet' suggested that maybe in time, he might see James again. He hadn't said who he was staying with though, and he had asked Ed not to track him down, which made Ed feel a little guilty for having done exactly that. But in his defence, he had done that before James had told him not to. What did he think he'd do? Keep back and wait? No, Ed wasn't like that. But he was going to be better at this. He was going to try to make this better. And if James didn't want to see him yet, then so be it. But he would at least leave him the letter and see if he wanted to meet up after he'd read everything he wanted to say to him.  
  
Ed kept writing, ignoring how dark it was getting and how reliant he was now on the lamplight near him. He didn't stop until he was finished. He folded up all the pages together and slipped them into the envelope and wrote 'To James' on the front. He had thought about posting it, but he was so close now, he might as well hand-deliver it. Gathering his things, he stood up and headed towards the gates.  
  
Ed did suspect they might have closed the gates by now, and he was locked in, but he wasn't worried. He'd escaped from here plenty of times before. He didn't even need to pick the lock. He could just climb the fences. He walked around the perimeter, looking for the best place to climb once he'd established that the gates were indeed locked. He didn't have to look far. There was a nice low fence on a corner, and he made quick work of it, hoping no one saw him and thought he was up to no good. Now he just had to make his way around to Lord Greg's house, since he was on the wrong side of the park now.  
  
The downside of the long walk was that Ed kept changing his mind on whether to deliver the letter at all. Should he? Or was he just asking for trouble, now that he knew James didn't want to hear from him? He felt he had to deliver it though, since he knew that's where he was going. If he really didn't want James to read it, he'd have headed for the Tube and gone home. But that's not where he went. He walked over to the house and stood outside, letter in hand, looking at the mostly dark windows.  
  
The problem then was whether he knocked or just slipped it through the mail slot and left. The other problem, of course, was that the longer he stood out there, the more chance that he might be seen. This did not help him make up his mind any faster. Besides, how could he make sure James got it? Even posting it might not help. And if he did just put it through the door, who's to say who might collect it? Maybe Lord Greg would keep it instead and stop James getting it. But to have come all this way and not deliver it seemed pointless. Maybe he should just post it and go, and see if James ever responded. It was getting late and he didn't want to be out all night if he didn't have to be.  
  
A decision made, he went up the stairs to the front door, and hesitated again as he pushed open the mail slot. Did he really want to send it? Should he send it? Would James mind, or would this just make him cross?  
  
"Fuck it, it's all up to him now," Ed muttered as he slipped the letter through and turned to head back to the road.  
  
He paused for a moment, looking around, trying to work out the best way home when he heard someone call his name.  
  
"You must be Ed. I suppose you want me to give this to James, don't you? I've spent the last three years cleaning up the mess you left him in. So tell me, Ed, why the fuck should I give him this letter?"  
  
Ed turned around to see Lord Greg standing in the doorway, letter in hand. "If you think he should have a chance to hear what I have to say, then you'll give it to him. I'm not staying. I'm not going to come back. I'm not going to stalk him. I'm going and if he ever wants to get in touch, he knows how to find me."  
  
"I know who you really are, you know. Do you think I should tell him that, too?" Lord Greg said.  
  
Perhaps, six years ago, Ed might have been scared of that kind of threat, but it didn't bother him anymore. "Tell him whatever you like. But that's not who I am now. That's not my name. I stopped being that boy when I was nine years old. And that's in the letter too, by the way. Your threat means nothing to me."  
  
Lord Greg seemed to smirk, giving him a strange look. "You might have changed your name, but there's still a lot of your father in you. You've clearly got his ruthless streak. Alright. Maybe I will give James the letter. But I'd better not see you hanging around here again or I'll make sure you get exactly what you deserve."  
  
"Don't worry, I told you, I'm not staying. Thank you for taking care of him though. I wish it had been me, but he doesn't deserve me. I just hope he's happy now. I've heard you're a good man. You're the kind of master he really needs, not someone like me," Ed said.  
  
Lord Greg's expression seemed to soften and he smiled at him. "Yeah, he's better than he was. Had a rough day, of course, but he'll live. I won't tell him you were here, if you want. I'll just say someone gave it to me in the street, if you don't want him to know that you know where he is now."  
  
Ed shook his head. "No. No more lies. He doesn't deserve that from me, or from you. If he hates me for it, so be it. If this is the last thing I say to him, so be it. But I'm not going to lie to him anymore, and neither should you. And now I think I've said all I wanted to say, so I'll take my leave. Goodnight, your Lordship."  
  
"Goodnight, Ed. Take care of yourself too," Lord Greg said.  
  
Ed offered a small respectful bow before he turned on his heel and left, refusing to look back. He'd done all he could. He felt lighter now, he realised, now that he'd got everything off his chest. He carried no more lies now, at least, not to James. Whatever happened next was the fate he truly deserved, and as he walked back towards the city, he made his peace with that. Tomorrow was a new day. It was time to start again. That was all that mattered now. 


End file.
